


Moral Dilemmas and Other Topics of Conversation

by hiddencait



Category: Black Sails, The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Discussions of sex work, Gen, Two for One Challenge, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21892351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddencait/pseuds/hiddencait
Summary: Discussions on morality in a brothel.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Moral Dilemmas and Other Topics of Conversation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keerawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keerawa/gifts).



> Confession, I have never written for the Expanse, but am a HUGE Black Sails fan, and when I saw this pop up in the Two for One Challenge prompts, I just couldn't resist putting it on my "To Be Treated" list. I hope you enjoy this!

Max eyed the young man in front of her, intrigued by his approach despite her normal apathy for the type of men who frequented her establishment. Well, aside from her dear heart’s Jack; _he,_ Max had grown to respect for Anne’s sake if not truly desire. But this man, she’d seen him in her brothel before, off and on for the past few weeks, never partaking of anything more than drinks and a meal, though he spoke to Max’s employees often. Never Max, however. He looked military, as many of their clients did these days, but there was something about his eyes as he surveyed the brothel that made Max wonder if that was not all he was.

She’d honestly expected him to vanish one day, on the same journeys across the Belt to something like work or a purpose or a bottle, whatever it was that urged them onward. She certainly had not expected him to suddenly decide to cross that distance he had so carefully kept between himself and Max over the course of all of these repeat visits.

But here he was, making his way across the room to her reserved spot at the corner table very purposefully, his handsome face composed if wary about the edges.

“Madame,” he said once he’d reached her, ducking his head a little in what was almost a bow. “Could I speak with you if you’ve got a minute?”

At the bar on the far side of the room, Max saw her bartender straighten, watching to be sure his employer was comfortable with the stranger. She shook her head slightly, and he relaxed and went back to his business. The man before her simply waited, watching the silent conversation with patience. He hadn’t sat down yet, and Max decided she appreciated the sign of courtesy. She wondered if he’d stand throughout their coming conversation if she neglected to offer him a seat. She had a feeling he would, which was at least part of the reason she waved him into the chair on the other side of her table. “Sit, please. And tell me who you are and what it is I can do for you.”

Or at least tell her what he _wanted_ her to do for him. There were no guarantees Max would grant his request, whatever it ended up being.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m Amos Burton.” He sat, not gracefully exactly, but more with a kind of easy awareness of his own body. A competent movement instead of a beautiful one. Anne often moved in such a way, Max mused. The stranger leaned forward a bit in the chair and rested his hands on the table. “I was hoping that you might have a job for me.”

Max eyed him. “You are… familiar with such an occupation?”

“No, not that. I meant more like a bouncer, muscle. Someone to keep the johns from hurting your employees. Maybe do repairs or maintenance around here as you need it done.” He shrugged. “You wouldn’t need to pay me much. That’s not what I need really.”

She forced her face into blankness instead of letting the disgust play across her face. Of course. Now they were coming to the point. Typical man. “Let me guess – you would prefer payment of a different nature. One provided by my other employees?”

He looked confused, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that she’d think that. “No, ma’am. I meant–” He hesitated, then went on. “What I’m needing really would come from you. I need…”

He trailed off, and Max studied him before prompting him to go on. His hands on the table twitched like he wanted to clench them into fists, then relaxed again. “I – I need someone to tell me what’s _right._ ” Max blinked, not understanding, and he sighed. “When I was in the corps, it was easy. I got my orders and I followed them. But out of the corps… I don’t know – I don’t understand…” He licked his lips and furrowed his brow in thought, struggling to explain himself. “My sergeant said I lacked a – a ‘moral compass’ he called it. I try to, but I never quite got why it was all right to kill one man but not another. What made someone an enemy or an ally. What made something _right._ You know? I haven’t got that, but I’m supposed to, I guess. So, I just need someone to be that for me. Thought you might be a good one.”

Max realized she’d been leaning forward as he spoke, drawn by the earnestness of his plea. She sat back and tilted her head, studying him again and wondering how she had judged him so wrongly before when he spoke of payment. “You truly think I could offer you such a service?”

“I been listening, to your employees, to word of mouth at some of the other brothels in this part of the Belt. You’ve got a good reputation; you treat your people right. Don’t cheat them or beat them when a mood takes you.” He shrugged.

“Why would you look for that service in a place like this?” she pressed, unsure why it mattered. It was not as if she planned to hire him, did she? She wasn’t sure. “Most would find a brothel to hardly be the most moral of businesses.”

He shook his head and shrugged again. “I grew up in a place like this. Well, not as nice, but still a brothel. I know what places like this are like. Feels like home as fucked up as that probably is.”

Max nodded absently, knowing precisely what he meant. “Would you require personnel quarters? Room and board could be worked into the agreement. The man who performed such tasks for me previously recently…left his position.” He’d left it at the end of Anne’s knife after stealing from the bar and drunkenly trying to force one of the girls. Not that Max was willing yet to reveal she already had someone standing in as protectors in that fashion, let alone a woman. “He had an efficiency apartment in the basement. It would be a 24 hour position, you understand. You would be on call most of the time, except for previously discussed vacations.”

“I don’t sleep much anyway. And I don’t have anywhere I’d want to go.” He’d relaxed slightly, picking up from her questions that she was at least considering his proposition.

This could end badly, for both of them, Max knew. It was entirely possible he deserved better than a self-admitted manipulative Madame of a brothel as his moral center. It was entirely possible that _she_ deserved better than to be styled as such a thing.

But, just as she had been intrigued despite herself when he first approached, she felt for him despite herself now. Max knew what it was to be alone; to loathe places like this, while yet clinging to them for the familiarity if nothing else. Perhaps – perhaps this would work, and work well.

And if not, well, he was hardly the most dangerous of her closest associates. Even if he was all that she guessed him to be, Max was certain Anne could… _deal_ with him if it became necessary.

Max, to her surprise, found she very much hoped it would _not_ become necessary. “Come,” she said, rising from her seat and making her way across the room to the stairs leading up to the second floor. “Let us discuss your employment contract. And I can provide you with the keys to your quarters.”

Max didn’t bother to look behind her as she climbed the steps, trusting he would follow. She had a feeling he might follow her very far in deed if she allowed it. It was not a displeasing thought, she decided. Yes, this might just work.


End file.
